


Kiss

by bananamoop



Series: Two best friends... Maybe they'll kiss..... [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Exhaustion, Fluff, Geralt is tired, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Sleepy Cuddles, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Spooning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27893131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananamoop/pseuds/bananamoop
Summary: Takes place directly after part 1. Geralt fights a nightwraith, Jaskier takes care of him after
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Two best friends... Maybe they'll kiss..... [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042458
Comments: 7
Kudos: 97





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was gonna be chapter 2 to the first part in this series but i decided to turn everything into a bunch of ficlets!! this def isnt the only one i want to write

Since finding out Roach was pregnant, Geralt and Jaskier had found a village, defeated the local monster, and gave a few performances at the local tavern. 

The contract seemed simple enough, a wraith had appeared in the graveyard just outside town and the people wanted it gone. An evil specter haunting their loved ones’ final resting place had made them rightfully upset. Geralt’s investigation found that he was dealing with a nightwraith. They were much deadlier than their more common cousin, so the witcher was able to haggle for better pay. This particular breed of ghost fed off creatures’ life force, and both the men agreed that Jaskier, who tended to radiate energy just by being him, was better off earning them extra coin by performing at the bar. 

The fight had to take place at night when the moon was at its peak, which meant that ironically, the witcher would most likely return from his hunt during the witching hour. Geralt spent the day meditating in their room and didn’t come out until well after Jaskier had started singing. The bard threw a wink in his friend’s direction as Geralt was leaving. The witcher gave him a quick nod in return before walking out the door. 

After a successful performance, the bard plopped himself down at a table that gave him a clear view of the entrance. He talked to the remaining patrons, played a few games of gwent, and enjoyed three mugs of cold, frothy ale while he waited for his friend. When there was no one else on the tavern floor, Jaskier worked on his music, humming softly to himself as he put his thoughts to the paper in his worn leather notebook. The night marched along slowly, and the bard caught himself dozing quite a few times. Whenever deeper sleep called to him, he got up and walked around the room. When the bench got too comfortable, he sat on the table instead. He could stay awake as long as he didn’t recline or press his back to anything, a simple enough task, really. Long nights studying at Oxenfurt had prepared him well. 

He was glad that he had decided to stay awake and make sure his friend returned in one piece, because when the door to the inn swung open hours later, the man standing behind it looked dead on his feet. 

“Gods, Geralt.” Jaskier tutted under his breath. The bard breathed a deep sigh and made his way over to his friend, who was now leaning heavily on the doorway with his eyes half closed. Jaskier quickly scanned the man in front of him for any obvious wounds. When he determined that there probably weren’t any, he tucked himself under the witcher’s arm, took on a portion of the man's weight, and coaxed him to move. Geralt leaned on Jaskier and dragged his feet, and his head dipped several times as he struggled to stay awake. It wasn’t a battle he was going to win.

“Anything I need to know before you pass out, dear friend?” 

“Mmm ‘kay.” Gerald slurred, “G’t k’ssd.” 

“How scandalous.” Jaskier said flatly. He readjusted himself so that he could carry more of his friend’s weight. Geralt had been ‘kissed’ by nightwraiths before. A kiss or two isn’t deadly to witchers thanks to their incredible physiology, but the ordeal wasn’t without consequence. Geralt would be very, very asleep for at least an entire day while he recovered the energy the monster had sucked from him. A few doses of Tawny Owl would help speed things up, but for the most part it was something that the witcher just had to sleep off. 

Thankfully, Geralt was able to hang onto consciousness long enough for the two men to stumble into their room. Jaskier clumsily dropped his friend onto the bed against the left wall just in time. The witcher was out cold before his head hit the pillow. The troubadour leaned over his friend and gave him a few light slaps on the cheek to see if the man was truly down for the count. There had barely been any force in the gesture, but his friend had already gone completely limp. The movement caused his head to dramatically flop to the side. Jaskier grabbed a hold of Geralt’s chin and sighed. The sight of the sleeping man in front of him was having an overwhelming effect on the bard, who was exhausted from being up all night. He had been happy to do it, of course, but that didn’t mean that the bed called to him any less. Drowsiness crashed against him in waves, causing his movements to grow increasingly more sluggish. Nevertheless, the man got to work undressing his unconscious friend with practiced ease. His body moved without thought. If he were more awake, he might have made a comment about having years of practice, but at the moment all he cared about was tugging off Geralt’s boots and mindlessly throwing them away from the bed. 

Jaskier continued to haphazardly remove and chuck the witcher’s armor around the room. He knew that Geralt wouldn’t have liked to see his things scattered everywhere but he was asleep and would be for a while. Jaskier would have plenty of time to tidy up tomorrow, but right now all he could focus on was stripping his friend. The thought of leaving Geralt in his armor wasn’t even a possibility. He had stayed awake to make sure the witcher would be cared for after battle, and that’s what he was going to do. 

The fight had made the witcher sweat some, but at this point his skin was pretty dry. There were parts of him, like his legs, that were a bit more clammy due to the lack of a barrier between skin and leather. Jaskier left Geralt’s boxers where they were, quickly stripped himself down to his own underwear, and used his shirt to wipe away any particular sweaty spots on his friend. He didn’t mind. Any stink would be washed away when he sent their clothes to be laundered tomorrow. 

Jaskier was way too tired to process that the bed was only just big enough for two people. Usually in situations like this they either slept back to back or just gave in and spooned as platonically as two best friends could. Sleeping back to back wasn’t even an option that crossed into Jaskier’s mind as he carefully climbed over Geralt on his hands and knees. The empty spot on the bed was perfect. There was just enough space for him to lay on his side and cuddle up next to the witcher. His goal was to gracefully slither into place, but he lost his balance while crossing over his friend. With nothing to grab onto, the bard couldn’t stop himself from knocking his hip into the wall. He vaguely registered groaning dramatically at the dull, radiating pain. Using it to his advantage, the man continued to lean on it for support so that he could grab the quilt at the end of the bed. The bard wasted no time pulling the blanket over him and Geralt, snuggling next to his best friend, and let sleep steal him away. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier takes care of an exhausted witcher.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter definitely got away from me haha i did not plan on writing as much as i did!  
> I dont have a beta reader so if you catch something please let me know!

Jaskier woke up nestled into Geralt’s back. The witcher’s scarred skin radiated heat. He couldn’t help himself. He brought his cold legs to his chest and pressed them against Geralt. The older man let out a short, soft grunt as a reaction to the sudden chill on his bare skin, but it wasn’t enough to rouse him from his deep sleep. Jasker readjusted the covers so that they were around their shoulders. The pocket of warmth the bard created lulled him back to dreamland with ease. 

It was late morning when Jaskier woke up again. He extended his legs, raised his arms, and took a deep breath. His back readily popped in several places. The tension in his muscles melted away, thanking him for sleeping in a real bed for the first time in three weeks. The bard carefully maneuvered out of his slim spot on the bed and over Geralt. It was much easier now that he wasn’t swaying with exhaustion. He stretched again for good measure and snatched his trousers from the floor. He shrugged them on and turned his attention to the witcher. 

Geralt was laying on his side and was using his arm to support the soft pillow under his head. The man was completely relaxed. It was a shame he was only resting like this because he had no other choice. His body was still too exhausted from being kissed by a nightwraith to even consider waking up on its own any time soon. Jaskier ran a hand through Geralt’s messy white hair, letting his fingers catch the black tie. He coaxed it out of the section it was tied to and continued to gently brush his friend’s locks from his face. He used the ribbon to secure a ponytail behind Geralt’s neck. It definitely wasn’t a clean job, but the goal was to keep the witcher’s white hair collected in one place, aesthetics be damned. The loose knot would probably fall out of place at some point during the day, but the bard would deal with it when it happened. 

Jaskier stretched and quickly got to work tidying the room. He gathered Geralt’s armor first and neatly stacked it on the table that was adjacent to the bed. He then pulled the two chairs from where they had been tucked under the table and turned them so he would have another platform to put things on. Walking around the room, Jaskier picked up any clothes he saw and threw them towards the table. Luckily for them, they had been able to get a room with a decent size tub with a wash basin. The bard grabbed it and continued to pick up clothes, now putting them in the basin. After picking up all the clothes and setting the basin on one of the chairs, he walked over to his bag, picked it up, and placed it on the remaining chair. He put on a clean outfit and walked out towards the bar. 

“Good morning, bard!” The taverness greeted Jaskier. She was a sturdy older woman with salt and pepper hair, “Yer performance last night was quite lovely. Will ye be performing again tonight?” 

“I will! And it will be just a grand, if not better.” Jaskier smiled. 

“And yer friend? Will the witcher be joining ye?” She asked innocently. 

“Ah, unfortunately Geralt is out of commission for today, I’m afraid he needs to recover from fighting the monster.” 

“Oh gods. I’ll have to charge ye fer new sheets if he kicks it.” She said, prodding for more information. 

“Don’t worry madam, I can guarantee you it’s nothing a day of sleep can’t fix. On another note, if there any way I could get some food? Soup would be preferable, if you have it.” Jaskier said. 

“There’s still some pottage from earlier, and fer lunch we make meat pies as they’re ordered. Stew won’t be ‘til tonight.”

Jaskier paused to consider his options. He was banking on having Geralt drink some soup. The witcher needed to get something into his stomach, and there was no way his friend would be able to wake up enough to chew on anything. 

The taverness must have been able to guess his train of thought, because the next thing she said was, “It’s fer the witcher, right? I’ll tell ye what- since yer performing tonight I’ll have me husband whip up some broth. It’ll be ready in about an hour.” 

“Thank you, my lady! Your husband is lucky to have such a blessed wife.” Jaskier bowed. 

“Aye, quit bein’ a rascal ‘n tend to yer witcher.” She said in an amused tone. 

The bard chuckled and dropped a few coins on the table before making his way to the door. It was time for some shopping. 

Thankfully, the town was large enough to have a few different merchants, so he was able to buy some rarer things. He was able to stock up on ink, dried meat, and some of the more uncommon herbs, specifically the ones Jaskier had in mind. As he shopped he made sure to mention that he would be playing again tonight. The bard Dandelion always drew a crowd, whether it be because they knew who he was, or because people wanted to see the man behind the rather fruity name. 

When he returned, the taverness gave him a pitcher of hot water for the witcher and let him know that he had about 20 minutes before the broth would be ready. 

“Thank you again… My, I don’t believe we’ve properly introduced.” He placed one hand against his back, spread his arm, crossed his ankles, and bowed, “I am the bard Dandelion, though you’ve probably heard me say that before. What may I call you, magnificent? Breathtaking? Ravishing?” 

“Oh Adeline is fine, dear.” the woman chuckled, “Now quit it before me husband hears ye sweet talk.”

“We shall meet again soon, my sweet Adeline.” The bard winked and turned on his heels. 

Jaskier found that Geralt hadn’t moved since he left this morning. He walked over to his prone friend and placed a hand on his forehead. A bit warm, but that was to be expected while he was healing. He took his newly purchased herbs and went about making a tea for the witcher. The bard combined mint, ginger, and his lucky find- dried lemon into a cup, poured some of the hot water over it, and covered the top. While it steeped he rummaged around in Geralt’s potion bag until he found the vial of Tawny Oil. The witcher had fortunately gotten into the habit of marking his potions after an incident where Jaskier had mixed up a potion with his perfume. The small amount that was absorbed through his skin left a rash and made him ill all night. The bard shuddered as he remembered the way his head pounded against the back of his eyes for nearly 8 hours straight. 

Jaskier walked over to Geralt and patted him on the cheek.

“Wake up for a second, Geralt, come on.” He said gently. 

Geralt grunted softly in response, but his eyes remained closed. 

“Drink this for me and you can go right back to sleep, I promise.” Jaskier told him. The bard cupped his hand under his friend’s head and lifted it. The witcher seemed marginally aware that he was being moved. His eyes fluttered for a moment before ultimately dropping shut again. 

“Swallow this, okay?” Jaskier pressed the vial to Geralt’s lips and let some of the liquid spill into his mouth. He then closed the witcher’s mouth and rubbed his lips, coaxing him to swallow. Jaskier tried not to focus too much on how soft his friend’s mouth was as he repeated the process, making sure to verbally persuade him each time to stay awake enough to swallow without choking. The bard took note of the stubble on Geralt’s (handsome) jaw. The witcher preferred to be as clean shaven as possible when he could help it, and the hair on his face was getting to a critical point.

 _He’ll probably shave sometime next week_. Jaskier thought idly. 

The bard lowered his friend’s head and helped him get comfortable. Geralt immediately fell back into a deep sleep. It was beautiful, the way stray pieces of silver hair framed the witcher’s face. His sharp features were softened by the feather pillow he was currently breathing slowly into, and the subtle tension that always seemed to be in the man’s brows had vanished. 

Jaskier couldn’t help but admire Geralt’s natural charm. Everything about him was just plain pleasing to look at. The witcher’s body was aesthetically perfect. Well built muscles flowed together seamlessly, creating peaks and valleys of soft skin. Various scars brought texture to the tender flesh and told a compelling, breathtaking story of heroics and hurt. It was a shame that others saw his face as mean and scary. It was intimidating, sure, not many people walked around with slit pupils, but there was compassion in the witcher’s honey colored eyes. You just had to know how to look for it. Sometimes, it was in the way he smiled at animals and children when he thought no one was looking. Other times, it was when he went out of his way to help someone, regardless if they were paying or not. Even now, as the Tawny Oil darkened the veins in his face ever so slightly, Geralt of Rivia was breathtaking. 

Jaskier had barely even realized he was carding his hand through his friend’s hair until the witcher sighed. The bard snatched his hand back. Geralt made a disapproving noise and shifted on the bed, curling his body so that his head was closer to Jaskier. 

“Dn’t stop.” Geralt murmured. 

The bard smiled and silently continued the repetitive motions. Geralt hummed warmly at the soothing touch. It wasn’t long before the witcher was lolled back into a deep sleep once again. 

There was a quiet knock on the door a handful of time later. Fortunately, the sound failed to disturb Geralt. Jaskier got up and quietly walked over to the door. Adeline stood on the other side with a steaming mug in her hands. 

Jaskier gasped, “Oh! My apologies, my sweet Adeline,” He said in a hushed voice, “It looks like I lost track of the time.” 

“It’s quite alright dear. It happens when ye be carin’ for someone ye love.” 

The bard blushed and took the tankard of broth from Adeline. Before she left, he made sure to send off his and Geralts’ laundry and give the taverness a generous tip. 

“I’ll be here for the remainder of the day. If I am not at the bar by dinner please fetch me so that I can perform for you and your guests.” Jaskier said with a bow. 

“Sounds like a plan to me. I look forward to yer playin’ tonight.” Adeline said kindly. 

Jaskier closed the door and turned to the window. It was later in the afternoon now. Dinner wouldn’t be for another couple of hours. 

His new task was to try and get Geralt to ingest something more substantial than a witcher potion. He grabbed the tea that had been steeping and returned to the witcher. 

He set the things down on the bedside table and began to run his fingers through his friend’s hair once again. 

“Geralt, you need to eat something, come on.” The bard said. 

The witcher blearily opened his eyes. Though he was no longer in the grasp of inescapable exhaustion, he still desperately needed to rest. 

Geralt’s eyes began to droop close.

“None of that, come on.” Jaskier protested. He helped his friend into a sitting position. 

Geralt’s head swayed, like it was too heavy for him to hold up by himself. It rolled around loosely before eventually landing back against the headboard. His eyes remained closed as he lazily tilted his head towards Jaskier. The witcher continued to doze while sitting upright. 

Jaskier cupped the man’s face and ran his thumb over his cheek, “I have some tea and broth for you to drink, okay? All I need you to do is wake up enough to drink some.” 

“Hmm.” Geralt said, blinking sluggishly. He took in a deep breath and settled his eyes on the bard. They weren’t necessarily focused on the man in front of him, but at least they were open, albeit half-lidded. 

Jaskier helped Geralt take a few sips of the steaming broth. The witcher brought his hands around the bard’s and attempted to tug it from his grasp. Even half asleep, his stubborn independence tried to deny help. The bard adjusted his grip so that Geralt supported more of the tankard’s weight. When his friend began to drift, he guided him back awake with his voice or swapped the broth out for the tea. Broth, talk, tea, broth, talk, tea. They continued that pattern until the witcher had ingested a hearty portion of both. 

“Th’nks… J’sk’r...” Geralt whispered as he drifted back into unconsciousness. 

The bard put everything away, sat at the table, and pulled out his leather songbook. He couldn’t mess with his lute, but he could still write. 

Songs weren’t written in one sitting. Jaskier usually started by putting most of the story to paper so that he could refer back to it when he was developing his lyrics. 

A few years ago, Geralt had gifted Jaskier a witcher bestiary. _His_ witcher bestiary, marked up and complete with handwritten notes in the margins. 

_‘..resemble a human child’_ was underlined under Godling. Written next to the text was, _‘Rare, harmless, do not kill.’_

For griffins, _‘..mate for life’_ was underlined. It’s note said, _‘always assume there are two.’_

 _‘DEADLY’_ was written next to creatures like Leshen, Golems, and Djinn. 

Jaskier gazed at the annotations. Years of grading papers at Oxenfurt had given him the ability to read some pretty horrendous lettering. Geralt’s definitely wasn’t the worst he had ever seen, but it wasn’t particularly neat either.

The book had been given to him one spring, after they had found each other once again for another year of hunting monsters and singing in taverns. He was reluctant to accept the gift at first, but Geralt reassured him that he didn’t need it. 

“I hadn’t even seen it in ages,” He had explained, “I found it in the keep over the winter. Thought you would like it.” 

And he did. That night Jaskier threw question after question at Geralt, who easily answered them without much thought. The bard seized the opportunity and added the new information into the book.

“How do you know all this information off the top of your head?” He had asked. 

“Witchers memorize their bestiaries by writing their own copies. One of the first things you hunt after recovering from the trials is a deer, so that you can use the skin to make parchment. When you need more paper, you hunt another deer, and when you’re done with that, you hunt another one to use it’s leather for the cover.”

“You’re telling me that both of these fonts are you?” Jaskier had said in disbelief. 

Geralt had chuckled at the question, “If it wasn’t perfectly legible then they made you redo it until it was.” 

Currently, Jaskier was using the book to help him write a bar song about being kind to your lady, lest she die on her wedding day and return as a noonwraith to haunt you for eternity. It was rather morbid, but he was confident that it would be a hit after he paired it with the right upbeat melody. 

The sun had begun to set when Geralt woke up next. Instead of rising leisurely out of bed, however, the witcher had thrown himself, scrambled to stand, and was staggering across the room in a rush. 

“Geralt! Woah! Slow down, what’s wrong?” Jaskier leapt up from his chair and put his body between his friend and the door, stopping him from leaving. The last thing he needed was his disheveled friend stomping out of the room in only his underwear. 

“Roach issn’ trouble.” He slurred, eyes glazed over. 

Jaskier immediately recognized the look. Every so often his friend would have a waking dream, where his body would react to a nightmare and begin moving on its own. The overexhaustion from being kissed by the nightwraith, a ghost that exuded pure sadness and pain, must have triggered a sleepwalking episode. 

“What’s wrong with Roach?” Jaskier said gently. He took a step toward the witcher in an attempt to herd him back towards the bed. 

Geralt made a grunt of disapproval, “No, th’ baby. Where’s th’ baby? They’re in trouble.” 

He tried to move around the bard, but he was still disoriented. Jaskier caught him as he fumbled over his feet. 

“Geralt. Geralt listen please, you’re dreaming, everything is okay. The baby won’t be here for nearly a year. You told me last week she was pregnant, and if there was something wrong, the stable boy would come get us, remember? We paid him extra to keep an eye on her. It’s okay.” Jaskier soothed. 

Geralt’s face scrunched in confusion as he stared through Jaskier. 

“Let’s go back to bed.” The bard said. He gently nudged Geralt back to bed and tucked him back under the covers. 

“Where’s Eskel?” Geralt muttered, “He was here.” 

“I’m afraid that was part of your dream. Trust me, we would have heard if there was another witcher in town.” Jasker cupped his friend’s face with his hand and ran his thumb under the witcher’s eye. 

“Mmm ‘want you to meet them.” The sleeping man whispered. 

“Who?”

“Mmm family. C’mm to winter.” 

Geralt was asleep before Jaskier could even process the question. He sighed sadly. There was no way he would actually be invited to Kaer Morhen. The witcher had been sleepwalking and didn’t know what he was saying. If he was asked again, when Geralt was awake and cognizant, then he’d think about it. 

As always, Jaskier’s performance was going swimmingly. Ale and coin was flowing at a steady pace, and people were singing and dancing along with his more popular songs. He danced around the room, smiling and winking at patrons indiscriminately. Some lovely people had bought him a few rounds, and who was he to decline such generous gifts? The last drink had been a little stronger than he preferred. No drinks Jaskier would have quietly abandoned the tankarn on a random table, but three drinks Jaskier gladly accepted the mead and gulped it down in between songs. 

It took everything in him to resist the urge to cheer Geralt’s name in the middle of his song when the bard saw him slink into the bar and sit at the counter. He was wearing a loose linen shirt tucked into his black, high waisted leather pants that hugged his thighs and ass deliciously. The man was definitely still groggy, but it seemed like the worst was behind him. Jaskier subtly skipped to the last verse of the song and finished with a bow. 

“Thank you! Thank you! I will return for another round after the break. Please direct any coin you wish to give to the lovely taverness, and remember to tip your barmaid!” 

Jaskier meandered over to where Geralt was sitting and dropped his arm dramatically on the counter.

“I assume I won’t be enjoying your presence for very long?” The bard said with a goofy smile. 

“Hmm.” Geralt hummed, which roughly translated to, _as soon as my stew gets here I’m going back to the room to eat and knock out for another 8 hours._ Which unfortunately happened sooner rather than later. 

The witcher was handed a bowl and mug. He took it without hesitation and stood up, gave Jaskier a nod, and walked away. 

The rest of the night was uneventful. The bard traded ale for water and sang until his voice threatened to go horse. Patrons left their tips at the counter and retired to their own dwellings, which Jaskier collected from Adeline before retreating to his own room. 

As expected, Geralt had gone back to bed after eating his food and was sleeping soundly under the covers. Jaskier stripped and snuggled into bed next to him, letting himself be consumed by the witcher’s warmth. 

The next morning Geralt is slow to rise, but is awake and ready for the day when he does. There are still shadows under his eyes, and he’ll probably need to turn in early tonight to finish recovering, but he’s up and insisting that they get moving. 

Jaskier complies and rolls out of bed. The two execute their morning routines and say goodbye to Adeline before heading to the stables to pick up Roach. Geralt gave her a thorough inspection while he saddled her up. Satisfied with how she had been cared for, he paid the stablehand a bit extra before leading her out to the main road. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> i dont have a beta reader or anything so if you see a mistake pls let me know! also if you have any critique or opinions dont be afraid to speak up! 
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
